


For Sale: 5-Bedroom, 3.5-Bath, Quiet Neighborhood, Minor Ghost Problem

by Kiraly



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Haunted Houses, M/M, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 06:12:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/pseuds/Kiraly
Summary: Real Estate Agent Reynir Árnason has a house to sell, but before he can, he needs some help convincing the former (one might even say "late") occupants to leave. That's where ghost hunter Onni Hotakainen comes in.





	For Sale: 5-Bedroom, 3.5-Bath, Quiet Neighborhood, Minor Ghost Problem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unlos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unlos/gifts).



> Happy Halloween, Unlos! I hope you're okay with AUs, because I got this idea and it wouldn't leave me alone. 
> 
> Also, this has a bit of canon-typical ghost creepiness, but that "treat" tag is still applicable.

 

“This is the place?” Onni stopped in front of the rusty gate and looked up at the house. It wasn’t much to look at: weed-choked yard, crooked shutters, and a roof that had seen better days. If Onni was in the market for a house, he certainly wouldn’t buy it. And given its history, only someone truly desperate—or completely stupid—would even consider it.

“Yeah! Isn’t it great?” The real estate agent’s smile was brighter than his red hair. Onni wondered if he’d practiced it—surely no one was naturally that cheerful. “It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, but I say it’s a real steal at this price! So much space to work with, and it has good bones underneath.”

Onni snorted. “I’m sure it has plenty of bones. That’s why you called me.” He’d done his research before he accepted this job. The house collected tragedy like most places collected termites; its history was littered with murders, suicides, murder-suicides, and at least one reported case of demon summoning. Unsurprisingly, those events had left it with a nasty ghost infestation. “Right, well. Let’s take a look.”

The real estate agent—Reynir, his name was—opened the gate and led the way. All the while he kept up a stream of chatter, rattling off square footages and nearby property values. Onni did his best to tune him out. He was here to do a job, not to buy a house. He couldn’t let himself be distracted. Normally, he wouldn’t even have allowed Reynir to be here; he preferred to work alone. But Reynir had insisted.

“It’s my responsibility,” he’d said, folding his arms and setting his jaw. It shouldn’t have been possible to look so determined while wearing a teal blazer. “If I’m going to sell this house, I have to assure my clients that it’s safe to live in. That means no ghosts! Besides, I feel bad making you go alone. Maybe I can help you.”

Onni had rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what good it will do. It’s very likely you won’t see anything. Most people can’t.”

Reynir had only smiled. “Don’t worry about that. Just let me come with you.”

Now that they were entering the house, Onni wished he’d argued harder. Reynir seemed nice, and he’d been wise enough to call an expert. Most people would have ignored the problem or tried to handle it on their own. But nice or not, he didn’t have Onni’s experience. Laying spirits to rest took practice, not to mention a degree of inborn talent. It could be a messy process if the spirits in question didn’t want to go. And the more people traipsing through the house, the greater the chance of upsetting the spirits.

At least, Onni thought, eyeing the layer of dust coating everything, they seemed to be the first people through here in some time. That would be a point in their favor. “How long has it been since someone lived here?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

Reynir paused, frowning in thought. The sun coming through the window behind him made his hair a fiery halo. “A few years, I think. The last owners only managed to stay one night. They had someone in to cleanse it back then, but I guess it didn’t work.” He gestured toward the stairs, a very grand set with dark wooden banisters. “At least they had repairs done first, so we should be able to go up. If you want to?”

Onni sighed. In a place like this, it wasn’t wise to get too far from the exit. But the house was so big, they’d have no choice. “I suppose we might as well. Several of the reported hauntings took place up there, correct? In the bedrooms?”

Reynir nodded. “And on the balcony. I can show you.” He started forward.

“Wait.” Onni held out an arm to stop him. Looking down, he could see faint lines on the wood—old runes, chalked on by some former ghost hunter. Not Onni’s area of expertise, so there was no telling if they did anything or not. Best not to risk it. “You should let me go first. Don’t step on those marks. And if you see anything strange, or hear something, or feel a cold spot—”

“I’ll tell you right away,” Reynir agreed. He let Onni precede him, following close at his heels. Clouds of dust rose in their wake.

Upstairs was the same mix of gloom and grandeur. Onni’s footsteps stirred up even more dust, but at least the carpet muffled the noise. When a series of dull thuds sounded above them, perfectly timed with Onni’s steps, he could hear them quite clearly. “Trying to get our attention,” he whispered, seeing Reynir’s frantic gestures at the ceiling. “Keep going.”

But they hadn’t gone more than two steps when the temperature dropped and the figure of a woman appeared in front of them. She was tall, with short curly hair and the suggestion of glasses. Some sort of ruffled collar rose above her long robes. She fixed the two of them with a piercing gaze and spoke.

_“You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”_

Onni lowered his eyes and caught Reynir’s sleeve. “Don’t look directly at her,” he hissed, reaching around behind him with his other hand. To the ghost, he said, “Madam. Are you aware that you’re dead?”

The ghost smiled. _“Oh, yes. But I’m not ready to go yet. Don’t try to send me on, my child, it won’t work.”_

Onni’s fingers fumbled with the leather straps on his pack. It was never a good sign when the spirits realized why he was there, but if he could just get his kantele free—

“Hi, I’m Reynir! What’s your name?”

Onni took his eyes off the ghost altogether to glare at him. “Don’t tell her your _name!_ Are you crazy?”

Reynir wilted under Onni’s gaze. “I was only trying to be polite.”

Something like a laugh came from the ghost’s direction. _“Your courtesy does you credit, child. But...I cannot answer your question.”_ A flicker in the lines of her face, almost like sadness. _“I must go. Heed my advice and leave this place.”_ With that, she was gone just as suddenly as she’d appeared.

“Wow!” Just like that Reynir was back to his bubbly self, smiling ear to ear. “This place really is haunted! Are all ghosts like her? She seemed nice.”

Onni shook his head. “No.” It was rare for spirits to show so much self-awareness, and the ones who did were not generally friendly. This one had not only manifested and spoken clearly, she’d tried to warn them. Plus, she’d disappeared before he could even try to send her on. It was odd, and Onni didn’t like it. “Come on. She’s not the only thing haunting this place.” He undid the leather straps securing his kantele and brought it around in front of him. Best to be prepared for the next encounter.

Reynir gave the kantele a quizzical look. “What’s that for?”

“Laying spirits to rest. What else?” Onni settled the strap in place and headed for one of the open doors down the hall.

“Yes, but how? What does it do? Do the ghosts play it, or like...does it have a recording box somewhere?” Reynir twisted his head around to peer at the instrument from different angles. “Does it light up if they get too close?”

Onni snorted. “I’m not here to make a _TV show_ , I’m here to send spirits on. Those people with their recorders and electric boxes just upset them.” His voice grated against his own ears, and he saw Reynir flinch.  _Oops._ It wasn't good to get upset or annoyed in a place like this. The ghosts could always tell. Gently, as much to soothe himself as anything that might be listening, he plucked a few strings. “It’s called a kantele,” he added, sighing. “I sing runos to guide them to the right path. Playing this...helps.”

“Oh.” Reynir tapped his chin, thoughtful. “I’m glad I asked you to come, then. I wouldn’t want to upset anyone. Especially if there are more ghosts like that nice priest lady.”

“Trust me,” Onni said, “Most of them aren’t like that.”

As they progressed through the house, Onni’s words proved to be true. They didn’t meet any spirits who were quite as aware as the first had been. Instead, they found creeping shadows, whispers that murmured words just out of earshot, and spots of freezing cold that came with a feeling of being watched. Each time, Onni took up his kantele and played, joining his voice to the strings. He coaxed the spirits out of hiding, carefully reminding them who they’d once been. And then, gentle as fallen feather, he’d nudge them where he wanted them to go. Where _they_ wanted to go, because none of them really had reason to cling. They were shadows, shreds of their former selves. It was Onni’s task to piece them together and free them.

But even as he felt the last ghost on the second floor slip away, Onni couldn’t help worrying. Something about it felt too easy. He’d expected a few easy ones, spirits who needed just a bit of help to pass on. But with the violence surrounding this place, there should have been more who struggled. Their path through the attic was the same. Apart from the room with the footsteps, where the occupant wailed and shrieked curses to distract him from his runo, none of the spirits gave him any trouble. And to top it off, Reynir was acting strange.

“You’re quiet,” Onni observed, risking a glance at Reynir as they made their way back to the stairs. Was it his imagination, or were the freckles on Reynir’s cheeks standing out more? “Something wrong?”

Reynir shook his head, frowning. “I don’t...know. Obviously you’ve been helping them, but...I have a weird feeling.” He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered, though they weren’t in a cold spot. “We’re almost done though, right? Just the first floor and the basement.”

“Right.” It should have been reassuring. It was not.

Onni’s sense of unease only grew when they returned to the first floor. By all rights, there should have been plenty of activity. People had reported seeing figures in the windows, hearing music in the former piano room, and even, according to one gruesome account, watching a spirit reenact their fatal fall down the staircase. But although Onni searched, reaching out with every sense he had, he found nothing. No lingering presences. No wisps of lost souls, waiting for release. It was like they were in an ordinary, not-at-all-haunted house.

Reynir was practically clinging to Onni at this point. He followed so close behind that when Onni stopped in front of a door, his chest bumped Onni’s shoulder and he had to catch himself on the wall.

“S-sorry!” Reynir hurriedly backed off.

“It’s all right,” Onni muttered. It was beneath his dignity to say that he’d actually enjoyed the brief contact. The atmosphere in the house must have been getting to him. “One floor left, then we can get out of here.” He pushed open the basement door.

A wave of cold air struck him, sending him back a step to collide with Reynir again. Reynir caught his shoulders to steady him and started to apologize again, but Onni waved him off. “No, it’s fine. I think it’s actually better if you hold on to me. Unless you’re willing to wait up here?” It would be safer that way. Whatever was waiting in the basement, Onni found himself suddenly reluctant to give it a chance at Reynir. Somehow, without his knowing it, he’d started to like the ditzy realtor.

Reynir shook his head. He was close enough behind Onni that some of his hair brushed Onni’s ear. “No. If you’re going down there, I’m coming with you.” He squeezed Onni’s shoulder with one hand, and caught the back of Onni’s jacket with the other. “Ready when you are.”

The basement light gave off only the faintest of glows, flickering occasionally. Onni handed Reynir a flashlight from his pack—just in case—and stepped forward, careful. There was nothing much to look at, only cobwebs and ductwork protruding from the ceiling. A jumble of trash moldered in one corner. And on the far wall, a door stood open.

“Onni,” Reynir whispered, pointing the flashlight beam at the door, “I think—”

A figure emerged from the shadows. Its edges blurred, making it hard to look directly at it. Wisps of vapor rose from it, and the temperature seemed to drop as it approached. It laughed, and Onni heard the echoes of countless voices in the sound. He shivered. This, then was where the ghosts from the first floor had gone. Something had pulled them down, drawn them into itself. And now it had lured him and Reynir to it.

Onni’s hand strayed to the kantele strings. At the first note, the spirit laughed again.

_“FOOL. DO YOU THINK TO BANISH US?”_

The words thrummed through Onni’s bones. Behind him, Reynir whimpered. “Not banishment,” Onni said, gritting his teeth, “freedom. We’re here to help—”

_“WE ARE BEYOND HELP. YOU ARE BEYOND HELP. YOU WILL JOIN US.”_

“Ah. No, I don’t think we will.” Onni plucked a series of notes on the kantele, racking his brain for a runo. He had songs for soothing lost souls, and for binding together what had frayed away. This, though...this was different. “Reynir,” he hissed, “distract it.”

“What? Oh!” Reynir stepped out from behind Onni, still clutching him. “Umm, hey there ghost friend. We don’t want to hurt you, so—”

He never got a chance to finish. The spirit rushed at them, roaring in rage. _“WE WILL NEVER LET YOU GO!”_

A shriek; a flash of light. Onni fell back, knocked off his feet by the force of the spirit’s malice. Or, he realized, blinking spots from his eyes, by Reynir. Reynir, who was still standing, facing the spirit down. Reynir, who held a glowing barrier between them and the ghost.

“You...can’t...have him,” Reynir said, panting for breath. “Onni, I’m sorry, I can’t hold this for long. You have to run!”

Onni righted himself, reaching for his kantele. “Don’t be stupid! I’m not leaving you here!” Whatever Reynir was doing seemed to be working for now, but he was right; this ghost was far too strong. Desperately, Onni built a song, hoping it would be enough to get them out. The melody strained against the spirit’s growl—when Onni started to sing, his voice felt thin by comparison. Reynir stumbled back a step. A string snapped beneath Onni’s fingers. The glow of Reynir’s shield fell away, and he landed on the ground next to Onni. They cringed back, frozen, waiting for the end. The ghost laughed in triumph.

And then light came, a bright pillar standing calm amidst the chaos. The spirit from before, the woman who had advised them to leave. She faced their attacker with her hand outstretched.

 _“I’ve been waiting for you,”_ she said.

The other spirit groaned. _“DO NOT SPEAK TO US, WOMAN_.”

The woman smiled. _“No need to be nervous. I’m here to guide you.”_ She spread her hands, and her voice took on a chanting quality. Almost, Onni thought, like a runo, but with different words. _“This is the path. The path to the light. To the light, and salvation—”_

 _“NO!”_ The spirit was frenzied now, swirls of smoke billowing off it. _“WE ARE NOT HERE FOR YOUR PATH. WE ARE ABANDONED! WE ARE SUFFERING! WE WILL MAKE THE WORLD SUFFER WITH US!”_

Onni thought the woman would surely back away—he wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, so strong was the malice dripping from the spirit—but she didn’t.

_“Aren’t you tired?”_

The spirit seemed surprised. _“WHAT?”_

 _“I am tired,”_ the woman said, _“I’ve been waiting for you for so long. I couldn’t get here until now. You were not abandoned, only lost.”_ She stepped forward, light spilling from her hands. _“Aren’t you ready to go home? Be truthful.”_

The malevolent spirit seemed to drip even more. Pieces dropped off, hitting the floor and vanishing into nothing. Softly, it said, _“WE...WE ARE TIRED.”_

And then light poured into the room. Onni squinted against the brightness, watched as the spirit broke into pieces, individual souls escaping and following the light as it flowed up. Onni had to turn his eyes away.

When the light receded, Onni looked up. The woman was still there, but she looked weaker, almost transparent. She smiled at them. _“I should be going now. Thank you, boys.”_

Onni cleared his throat. “You don’t appear to have needed our help.”

 _“Oh, but I did. You see, I was trapped upstairs.”_ She nodded at Reynir. _“Someone disturbed the runes keeping me there, on your way down. I could finally help these poor souls.”_

From his spot on the floor, Reynir said, “Oh. Uh, okay. Thank you for the help, nice lady.” He sighed. “I wish I could know your name.”

One last smile flickered across her lips. _“It’s Anne. Goodbye, young ones. Take care of this place.”_ With that, she was gone, leaving nothing but light. When Onni looked up, he saw that the light was only sunlight; there was a giant hole in the ceiling.

Reynir groaned. “That...is going to take a chunk out of my commission, isn’t it?”

Onni stared at him. And then a laugh forced its way out. The sight of Reynir, flat on his back and covered in cobwebs, was too much for him. He doubled over, still laughing, and managed to pull Reynir into a sitting position. Reynir laughed too, and clung to Onni like he would never let go of him. The laughter went on until one of them leaned in for a kiss, and after that they had much better things to do with their mouths.

* * *

 

_Six Months Later_

Onni followed Reynir through the foyer, smiling fondly as the real-estate-agent-turned-ghost-hunter gushed about the newly restored hardwood floors. It had taken quite a while to fix the gaping hole left by the ghosts, and even longer to get the house into a livable state. But Onni’s sister had connections in the construction business, and Reynir had an eye for home remodeling. The end result was well worth all the money that had gone into it.

“And with the radiant heating, we won’t have cold feet in the winter—are you listening to me?”

Onni blinked. “Yes. Maybe. Warm feet?”

“Okay.” Reynir kissed him on the cheek and caught his hand, locking their fingers together. “I’m just really excited, you know? Our own place, and it’s finally ready.”

“Mmm.” Onni rolled his eyes, but he let himself be pulled into Reynir’s embrace. “You know we could have moved in when it was still a mess, I wouldn’t have cared.” After coming through their first  visit to this house unharmed, Onni had been certain he never wanted to set foot in it again. He wouldn’t have, either, except that Reynir seemed bound and determined to keep his promise to the ghost lady. And Onni found he was quite unwilling to be away from Reynir. After facing ghosts together and nearly dying, they decided that living together was a much better option.

“You say that now, but when it gets cold out we’ll be glad for the new insulation. Big old houses like this are always drafty.”

“I think we would have found ways to keep warm,” Onni said. “And I’m still not convinced we need such a big house. “

“We won’t need it all for ourselves. But just think, when our families visit, or...well. I’ve been thinking, we might take on students.” Reynir smiled shyly, the way he always did when talking about his abilities. “There must be more people out there who can do what we do. We could teach them. Help more spirits.”

Onni sighed. He’d always thought that sending spirits on was a task best done alone. But since meeting Reynir, he’d had to adjust his way of thinking. Sometimes it was better to have backup. Sometimes, a well-drawn rune could mean the difference between success and failure. And at the end of the day, it was comforting to come home to a kind smile and a warm pair of arms, ghosts or no ghosts.

“All right,” he said, squeezing Reynir’s hand. “Tell me about your idea.”


End file.
